


The Tudors, Season 1, Episode 5, Arise, My Lord

by TheSomewhatRamblingReviewer



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Analysis, Episode Review, Episode: s01e05 Arise My Lord, Meta, Nonfiction, Season/Series 01, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSomewhatRamblingReviewer/pseuds/TheSomewhatRamblingReviewer
Summary: Warning: Contains spoilers for the episode and the rest of the series. Complete.
Kudos: 1





	The Tudors, Season 1, Episode 5, Arise, My Lord

It’s a shame Brian Kirk didn’t direct more episodes of the series. This and **True Love** are two of my favourites.

Open to Boleyn receiving a lordship.

A hidden Catherine is shown watching, and next up, tiny Henry Fitzroy receives the titles of duke and earl.

It’s a legitimately sweet scene where Henry places a kid-sized red cap on the little boy, hands him a small dagger, kisses him, picks him up, and sits him on the throne next to Henry’s.

In another room, Catherine expresses her displeasure of Henry putting his illegitimate son above Mary to Wolsey. She implies Wolsey is responsible for Henry’s attitude towards the two children.

I don’t think Wolsey is any happier about Henry putting his son ahead of Mary than Catherine is. Politically and religiously, it’s not a good move to put the illegitimate son of a married woman in front of a princess by legitimate birth. If Henry Fitzroy did ascend to the throne, there would always be questions about his paternity. People would also wonder whether he had divine right to the throne. Mary would have being female against her, but as the legitimate daughter of an anointed king and his royal wife, most of the country would agree she had a divine right. More than Henry, Wolsey understands all of this.

However, instead of explaining all this to her, or even asking if she does understand this, he condescendingly informs her of the fact the emperor has married another woman. Catherine doesn’t strike him, but by the look in her eyes, she desperately wants to.

Meanwhile, Henry reads a letter from Anne. She’s self-deprecatory and hopes he’ll accept a gift she sent. It’s a miniature of her, though, it’s one of Natalie Dormer dressed as Anne Boleyn rather than one of the actual Anne.

The next scene is well-loved by the fandom.

Bessie curtsies to Henry Fitzroy.

Being a toddler, he cares not for formalities and, running over, he greets her, “Mama!”

Kneeling down, she tearfully says he’s going to live away from her. Assuring him the servants will take good care of him, she tells him she’ll be unhappy if he isn’t a good boy and urges him not to mistreat those who are lower than he is. He promises to be good, and she promises to visit him as much as she can. Hugging him, she declares how much she loves him.

On the boat, Charles Brandon and Margaret talk about her murder of the Portuguese king. Then, he proposes.

At the castle, Henry expresses sympathy for his sister, and though it never goes anywhere, it’s implied Wolsey has his suspicions about the actual cause of the Portuguese king’s death.

Explaining how he’s working to procure Henry’s divorce/annulment, Wolsey also reveals the emperor has released the French king.

Ordering the Spanish ambassador to be fetched, Henry storms out, and there’s a neat moment where two faceless guards bow when he walks out the door.

Going to Anne, he passionately kisses her. I feel compelled to point out they had their first kiss and meeting alone last episode. He asks her to be his official mistress.

Offended, Anne informs him her virginity is on reserve until she’s married. Bringing up the social stigmatisation women face if they don’t hold to this, she somewhat pointedly names her sister as an example.

Giving a passive-aggressive apology, Henry leaves, and if this wasn’t enough, Boleyn has appeared at some point. He gives his daughter a look. No doubt, he’s gearing up for another lecture on her duty to the family and how important it is she secures Henry’s affections.

In the gardens, Catherine is playing with Mary. Wolsey appears. Catherine sends her daughter away with her ladies-in-waiting.

Wolsey informs her Henry is giving Mary her own establishment. Catherine believes this is a ploy of psychological warfare on Wolsey’s part, and she shows borderline hysteria at the thought of Mary being separated from her.

For his part, Wolsey has an interesting speech where he notes people are always accusing him of being responsible for doing bad things. He suggests others have poisoned her mind against him.

Catherine, however, compares what Wolsey is doing to a forced abortion. Wolsey quietly replies he’s doing as Henry commands. Catherine channels her eerie side, and with tranquil fury, she declares Wolsey her enemy. Resigned, he responds, “Your Majesty is unfair.”

She orders him to depart, and he does. Running, she desperately calls for Mary.

Next, the ambassador comes to the throne room, and Henry makes his displeasure known. Due to being insecurities and fears of getting older, he throws a hissy fit when the ambassador says the emperor regards Henry as his uncle. Aside from Henry actually being the emperor’s uncle-in-law, it’s not uncommon for teenagers, never mind those in their twenties, to be uncles and aunts in the present day, and I imagine this was even truer during the Tudor era.

Then, the ambassador makes the mistake of pointing out Henry hasn’t always kept his promises. Though he’s right and words it politely, a little common sense would have told him not to actually say this.

Henry manhandles the ambassador before ordering him to leave.

The ambassador runs into Boleyn, offers the emperor’s friendship, and explains how much said friendship pays. Boleyn promises to consider it. Next, Boleyn and Norfolk meet to briefly discuss the ambassador.

Meanwhile, at a piano, Thomas is composing, and William appears.

It’s obvious the interest is mutual, but the way William initially ignores or misreads Thomas’s discomfort at having his personal space invaded makes the scene uncomfortable. However, I don’t think William is written or being played as intentionally predatory.

Mainly, Thomas has no idea how to properly interact with a member of nobility, and William may not fully understand why this is an issue. He was only given his lordship recently, and though he’s naturally of a higher-class than Thomas, the only time he’s truly conscious of class differences is when he’s interacting with Henry. The rest of the time, he’s friendly towards everyone unless they give him a reason not to be.

When he realises Thomas responsiveness isn’t going to increase, William quickly leaves. Coming across three women, two of them are the sisters from last episode, and he shares their admiration of Thomas’s music. Thomas watches the exchange, but when William sees him, he scurries away. William excuses himself.

I don’t know whether he meant for Thomas to witness the exchange or not.

At Hever, George snatches a letter out of Anne’s hands. Fighting her off, he does a fair imitation of Henry before mocking Henry for drawing a heart between the letters H and R.

I’d mock Henry for this, too.

George goes on about how incredible it is a king is in love with his sister, and Anne shrilly demands the letter back. Complying, he asks with a sense of dread in his voice, “You’re not in love with him, are you?”

She doesn’t answer, and he sighs.

At the castle, More is aghast about Henry wanting a divorce. Wolsey corrects him: Henry wants an annulment on the grounds of the biblical prohibition against a man marrying his brother’s wife. More points out the pope gave Henry a dispensation, and losing his patience, Wolsey says, More’s idealism aside, kings get divorced all the time, popes find reasons to grant them, and More isn’t stupid enough to think anyone can stop Henry.

More, admittedly, makes a good point when he brings up how popular Catherine is with the country. He angrily asks if she knows about all of this.

The next day, Catherine attends mass and distributes alms to the poor.

Unhappy, Cromwell watches from afar.

Meanwhile, through the rainy city, William goes to a tavern.

First, there’s either a squirrel or a monkey in a birdcage. Second, I’m assuming Charles Brandon sent a messenger to discreetly find William and tell him where to meet.

Dismissing a prostitute’s attempt at soliciting him with, “Sorry, love,” he wanders around the tavern.

Charles Brandon greets him as, “My dear William.” They hug and sit down, and Charles Brandon asks how Henry is. The answer is: Getting impatient to see Margaret.

“We’re married,” Charles Brandon blurts out as the realisation of what a stupid mistake he’s made starts to set in.

Visibly hoping his friend didn’t do the idiotic thing he knows his friend did, William manages to laugh. “What?”

Charles Brandon explicitly says he and Margaret are married, and as a serving girl delivers their drinks, William can’t keep himself from further laughing. When told he has to be the one to tell Henry, he rightfully asks, “Why do I have to tell him?”

Charles Brandon insists it’ll be better coming from William.

Not really, no. If Charles Brandon is out of physical striking distance, he might be safer, but not only is he literally putting his friend in danger, it isn’t going to look good for him to have married Margaret, and then, not have the courage to man up and face her brother.

“What’s the matter, Charles? Have you lost your nerve?”

Charles Brandon insists this is no laughing matter, and William exasperatedly asks why he did such a moronic thing. Charles Brandon answers he doesn’t always think things through, and smacking him, William retorts, “Yes, you do. Just not with your head.” Heh.

Back at the castle, Catherine is privately praying, and Henry comes in. Though surprised, Catherine starts to express her happiness. Henry declares their invalid marriage at an end. Tears in her eyes, Catherine quietly stands. With tears in his own eyes, he explains his justifications. He leaves, and a sobbing Catherine sinks to the floor.

In a meeting of cardinals, it looks as though Wolsey’s not going to get the annulment/divorce through them.

Elsewhere, Lady Salisbury brings Mary to say goodbye to Catherine. Kneeling down, Catherine tells Mary in Spanish, “Be strong, my daughter. Remember who you are. The descendent of Isabella and Ferdinand of Castille. The only daughter of the King of England. Be strong, and be true, and one day- One day, you will be Queen.”

“Yes, Mama,” Mary responds in English.

After kissing her, Catherine stands up, and Mary’s led away.

In the throne room, Henry is pensive. He asks William if Charles Brandon is sorry and repents. Softly, William answers Henry knows Charles Brandon. Henry replies, “You mean he does not.” He orders William to send Margaret in.

Margaret enters, and yelling, Henry rants. Banishing her and Charles Brandon, he informs her hasn’t decided if he’s going to have the latter beheaded.

In a darkened corridor, William and Thomas come across one another, and William coaxingly tells him, “Say yes.”

As much as I like the story told, it’s really more of a potential story than an actualised one. Either the writers wanted to titillate people into watching or they wanted points for being progressive. As a result, scenes like this, though well-done, don’t feel right. Until this episode, William and Thomas have had no verbal interaction, and the little they had earlier isn’t enough to make this scene work. The next episode, William declares his love for Thomas, and as much as I love said scene, it wasn’t right, either.

Refusing, Thomas walks away. However, changing his mind, he walks back. William again encourages him to say yes.

“You’re married,” Thomas answers.

Instead of going into what his deal with Lady Hasting actually is, William asks, “So?”

Thomas tries to walk past him, but William asks why he denies him. Thomas answers, “I do not love you.”

There’s a subtle flash of hurt across William’s face, and this would have more impact if this were better fleshed out, but he causally inquires, “Is that all?”

I do like Thomas’s answer of, “For me, yes.”

William simply looks at him for a moment before sincerely declaring, “You’re so beautiful, Tom.”

His defences weakening even further, Thomas tries his last excuse, “You’re a lord. What am I?”

“A genius,” William answers. He slowly moves in for a kiss.

Thomas allows it, and it’s well done on the part of the actors. It’s extremely sweet and almost chaste but full of sensuality.

It’s a bit jarring, though, when I remember they’re doing this in a corridor where anyone could come across them.

In Henry’s bedchambers, a gift from Anne arrives. It’s a gold ship with a diamond hanging off it. Talking to himself, he works out the symbolism in the gift.

Later, Wolsey tells Henry the French king wants a treaty with him. He gives Henry a letter Catherine tried to send to the emperor. In it, she declares her love and loyalty to him. Henry orders Wolsey to start making plans for a treaty with France.

Next, Henry goes to see Anne. They kiss, she promises to give him a son when they’re married, and he promises to respect her virginity until they’re married.

Meanwhile, in the Brandon estate, Margaret declares her hatred via both word and in her attempts to kill Charles Brandon with dishes. She laminates she could still be Queen of Portugal if she hadn’t let the womanising mischief-maker she’s known since childhood convince her to commit cold-blooded murder as well as the fact she would still be welcomed as a princess at her home court if not for stupidly agreeing to marry the womanising mischief-maker she’s known since childhood.

I rarely take Charles Brandon’s side on anything, but for some reason, I just can’t muster any sympathy for her predicament.

Touchy at her declaration of not loving him, because, if he can lose her love so quickly, it might be the same for her brother, Charles Brandon assures her Henry will eventually forgive them. Dropping a well-placed f-bomb, she declares she doesn’t know if he’s brave or the biggest fool around.

“Neither do I,” he admits.

This leads them to have rough sex.

At More’s house, Henry gently and calmly explains to More he just wants to make sure he’s right with God. He promises to drop the matter if it’s discovered his marriage to Catherine is legal.

I really like this scene. Of course, Henry’s lying through his teeth, but for once, when confronted with opposition, he doesn’t fly into a rage, and showing his idealism, More tries to believe the words despite knowing Henry.

In Catherine’s bedchambers, she and Anne have a non-verbal standoff.

Meanwhile, Wolsey’s with the cardinals. They realise the reason Henry wants the marriage looked into is due to him wanting to marry someone else. Wolsey points out the English people will never accept Henry Fitzroy, but they counter he has Mary as his legitimate heir. Wolsey counters their counter by reminding them of history not painting much hope for England accepting Mary.

It’s made clear they won’t grant Wolsey the authority to dissolve the marriage.

Next is another scene many people, including me, love. Bare-chested with the sheets covering their lower halves, William and Thomas are in bed. Sitting, Thomas works on a composition, and William peacefully sleeps. He’s turned towards Thomas with one of his arms supporting Thomas’s back, and without waking, he nuzzles closer.

Elsewhere, Wolsey tells Henry about the preparations for the French treaty. He goes on to suggest Henry appeal directly to the pope in regards to the marriage, and Henry threateningly declares, for Wolsey’s sake, the pope had better grant the appeal.

In court, people are dancing, and Catherine watches Henry and Anne dance together. Up above, Boleyn and Norfolk trash the French and hope for Wolsey’s downfall soon.

Bursting in, a messenger declares the emperor has captured the pope.

Looking accusingly at Catherine, Henry leaves, and the dance disbands.

In the next scene, Bessie is at Henry Fitzroy’s house in a mourning dress, and she’s told Henry Fitzroy died of the sweating sickness. The men move aside, and she kisses her dead son’s forehead before breaking into sobs.

Though this was a well-acted, painful scene, in real life, he was a teenager when he died

Elsewhere, looking down at the little cap he put on his son’s head, Henry cries.

Fin.


End file.
